


Farewells

by AcrobatElle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrobatElle/pseuds/AcrobatElle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killian says goodbye. Spoilers and speculation through 5x11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Farewells

Eventually they’re alone at the edge of the lake, awaiting the inevitable.

He’d felt a strange sort of calm throughout the day in spite of everything. The whirlwind once his fate had been revealed -- a sleepless night of hurried research, a trip to Regina’s vault, even a consultation with a surprisingly sympathetic crocodile -- had led to nothing but dead ends, but it gave him an odd sort of peace to see so many… friends, tentative though they may be, determined to find a way out of this mess. For _him_.

It wasn’t the worst way to go out, he supposed, seeing how many people truly cared. He doubted his old crew would have spared a passing thought at his demise. They were far more loyal to a steady stream of treasure and rum than the captain who provided it.

As the hours crept on he could feel it, the sense of hopelessness descending on his unlikely crew of allies as each increasingly unlikely solution fell by the wayside. He kept his hand firmly in Emma’s to anchor him; there was no way out of this, and they all knew it. It was him or all of them, and the sacrifice felt easier when he saw how desperate they were to find a way to prevent him from having to make it.

It doesn’t feel like giving up. It feels like a mission.

It isn't until the goodbyes begin that he feels himself unraveling.

Robin’s firm handshake, he could handle. Regina didn’t say anything, merely giving him a tight nod with newfound respect in her eyes. He couldn’t let the moment pass, taking her hand and kissing it in a grand gesture ( _I knew I was growing on you, your Majesty_ ), and her halfhearted scoff lightened the proceedings, just a bit.

Little Neal was the easiest, gripping Killian’s finger tightly when he told him to give his family more trouble than they could handle. His experience with children was relegated to ones old enough to converse with (fight with, bond with, denounce) him, and so his brief moment with the young prince lightened his soul, a beacon of possibility surrounded by people who loved him.

If Killian’s chest tightened at the thought, he ignored it.

Her parents were more difficult. Snow had squeezed his upper arms as she kissed his cheek, and he suddenly found himself wishing he’d spent more time with her; someone so like Emma was a person worth knowing. David pulled him in and clapped at his back much like he’d done in his last moments with Baelfire, but Killian managed to swallow the moment down with a smile.

Belle had surprised him, pulling him into a gentle hug and holding on until he settled into her embrace, the gesture genuine rather than perfunctory. “I’ll miss you in the library,” she told him with a tremulous smile. He could only squeeze her hand in return, the full weight of her grace and capacity for for forgiveness slamming into him with such force that it took his breath away.

But it was Henry who was his undoing. Killian hardly had a moment to recover from Belle’s words when the lad collided with him, suddenly so much more like the boy he’d first met than the young man he’d come to know.

“Do you really have to do this?”

“Aye, lad. I’m so sorry.”

Henry pulled back, wiping his nose and steeling himself, so much stronger than Killian felt in that moment. “I’ll teach Neal how to sail, when he’s old enough.”

Killian’s breath flew out of him, an avalanche of lost possibilities smothering him -- everything he thought he couldn’t have, snatched away in a cruel twist of fate -- and he just managed to grab Henry’s shoulder, far harder than would be comfortable. “You do that, lad,” he managed, swallowing heavily.

He looked up and saw a myriad of faces, most filled with sympathy that he couldn’t bear, and gathered himself before looking back to Henry. “I’d like a moment alone with your mother, if that‘s all right.”

And so he watched as they filed away, disappearing as the sun crept lower on the horizon.

It is only when they are completely alone that he allows himself to look at Emma, her fingers restlessly dancing over the ring he’d given her earlier.

Sacrifice seemed so much easier when it didn’t leave destruction in its wake.

“Emma.” He steps into her personal space, sliding his hand around her waist and willing her to look into his eyes.

She doesn’t, but leans into his touch, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. “I keep waiting for someone to swoop in and save the day.”

“I know, love.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Life seldom is.”

She looks up at him then, broken beyond his repair, a sad little girl in place of the fierce woman he loves. “Couldn’t it be unfair in my favor? Just once?”

His acceptance of his fate shatters at the sound her voice, his hand tightening around the small of her back. “God, Emma,” he manages, the tears he never shed for Liam or Milah coming unbidden now.

They don’t speak for a long while as the light fades. He contents himself in the warmth of her arms around him, savoring the love and light as long as he can, her thumbs brushing away the tears on his face.

He doesn’t see the boat behind him but knows when it appears by the tensing of her shoulders.

“I love you,” he whispers, his face buried in her hair. “So much. Just in case we -- “

“No.” She cuts him off sharply, the word muffled against his neck. “Don’t do that.”

He pulls back the slightest bit. “I know better than to tell you to let me go, love. I know you won’t. But even if you can‘t find me, just know that one way or another, we’ll see each other again.”

She draws in a tight breath, her fingers playing at the hair on the back of his neck. “Promise?”

The churning in his stomach settles and he nods, brushing his lips over her cheek. “I promise.”

In his final moments he allows himself to be selfish, finding solace knowing that the last thing he sees in this world is Emma’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve seen some utterly brilliant fic and headcanons, but most of them are based on the idea that Killian’s sacrifice is a last-minute, desperate thing. What if it paralleled Emma’s departure in 3x11 instead?
> 
> You can find me at acrobat-elle.tumblr.com. Come say hi!


End file.
